


All My Words I Give to You

by tardigrape



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Sex, Geraskier Week, Jaskier rides Geralt like a horse, M/M, No Spoilers, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22788901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardigrape/pseuds/tardigrape
Summary: Witchers have no emotions? Bollocks.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 25
Kudos: 670





	All My Words I Give to You

“Jaskier, quit whinging.”

“I’m not _whinging_.” He absolutely was. He shifted against the cold, hard ground, but no matter what position he tried, he couldn’t get comfortable. “I’m just saying, if you hadn’t been so nasty to that innkeeper we could be in real beds right now.”

“He paid me with false coin.”

“And you blew up at him right away. You terrified the poor man. You ever stop to think that he didn’t know the coins were counterfeit?”

Geralt’s eyes glowed at Jaskier across the fire.

“No, you didn’t, you got angry and just reacted without thinking—”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, you _did_ , if you’d stopped to think you might have—”

“I wasn’t angry. Witchers don’t have emotions.”

“Bollocks.” Jaskier snorted. “Witchers don’t…who fed you that nonsense?”

Geralt frowned. “Everyone knows that.”

Jaskier shook his head. “What unutterable garbage. Don’t have emotions. You never stopped to think about what all those feelings you had were?”

“I don’t have feelings.”

“Don’t be an ass, of course you do. Everyone has feelings.”

“Not witchers. Ask anyone.”

Jaskier blinked at him, but Geralt was being serious. Jaskier shook his head. “All right, sure. You don’t have feelings. No emotions. Nope. You’re as unmoving as a stone.”

Geralt glared, but the argument was settled. For now.

The next day they were preparing to get back on the road. Jaskier picked up Geralt’s swords and walked toward him, as if to hand them to him. “Whoops!” Jaskier cried, dropping the swords on the ground. Geralt lunged for them, then snarled at Jaskier. “What the fuck, Jaskier?”

Jaskier wagged a finger at him. “That one there? That’s anger.”

Geralt glared. Jaskier grinned. The glow receded from Geralt’s eyes, and he huffed out a breath. “This is a stupid thing you’re doing, bard.”

“Hm, that one sounds like annoyance.” Jaskier cheerfully hoisted his lute over his shoulder. “A very common one for you.”

“Only when you’re around,” responded Geralt.

“Oh, oh, was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?” Jaskier was dancing, hopping from one foot to the other. “A whole host of emotions go into a good joke, you know.”

“Don’t get cute,” Geralt growled.

“Too late, I’ve been cute for years,” Jaskier retorted, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes. Geralt snorted, but there was a grin under it. “That, that right there, that’s amusement!” Jaskier cried, bouncing.

This continued for the next several days. “There’s anger again!” “Hm, that sounded awfully like happiness.” “Boredom is an emotion too, you know.” “All right, all right, but ‘exasperated’ definitely describes an emotion.”

They were camped again, a fire roaring merrily before them, eating venison from a deer that had had the misfortune to cross Geralt’s path. Jaskier licked his fingers loudly and let out an echoing belch. Geralt wrinkled his nose.

“I do believe,” Jaskier said, “that might be disgust.”

“Hm.” Geralt finished his own meal, then leaned back against a log, lacing his fingers behind his head, his eyes closed. He sighed.

Jaskier settled down beside him. “Contentment?”

“Hm.”

Well, Geralt was no longer arguing. Perhaps he was coming around. “Seriously though, who convinced you witchers don’t have emotions? How did someone do such a number on your head?”

Geralt’s smile fell. “Vesemir, I guess. He told us the mutations would strip us of our emotions. It would make it easier to face monsters.”

“And you just believed him?” Jaskier snorted. “I mean, I know you’re an idiot, but I didn’t think you were _that_ stupid.”

“Hey!” Geralt glared.

Jaskier sighed. “What I mean is, didn’t you, you know…notice that you still had feelings?”

Geralt shrugged. “I was exhausted all the time. They kept us training, going through trials, never giving us a break. I guess I didn’t have the energy to feel.”

Jaskier’s heart broke for the boy Geralt. What must he have gone through, not to even notice his own feelings? “And now? What do you feel now?”

Geralt looked sidelong at Jaskier, but finally shrugged. “Contentment, you said. That’s…having enough? Knowing what you have is enough?”

Jaskier smiled. “Yeah, something like that.”

Geralt nodded and leaned back, closing his eyes. “That’s a good one. I like that one.”

This, Jaskier felt, was a major breakthrough. Geralt had not only just admitted to _having_ and emotion, but also _liking_ it, and Geralt liking things was a rare treat. “Yeah, contentment is good.” Jaskier crossed his legs and leaned his elbows on them. “What else?”

Geralt opened one eye. “You can have more than one at once?”

Jaskier laughed at loud. “You can—yes, of course you can! I usually have six or seven at a time, I think.”

Geralt grinned at him. “Amusement, then.”

“Because of what I just said?” Jaskier grinned and leaned back, copying the witcher’s posture. “I’m terribly flattered.”

They drifted off to sleep next to each other, stretched out under the stars.

After that, Geralt began checking in with Jaskier, sussing out his emotions.

He slew an alghoul, its thick blood coating his sword. “Satisfaction?” he growled. Jaskier nodded. “Quite possibly.”

A contract for a drowner turned out to be a whole nest of them, plus a water hag. “Irritation!” roared Geralt, slicing through the monsters. “I agree!” shrieked Jaskier, dodging the poisoned mud the hag flung at him.

They were chased out of a town more familiar with the Butcher of Blaviken than the mighty White Wolf. “Weariness,” whispered Geralt. Jaskier laid a hand on the witcher’s broad back, wishing he could make everyone else see what he saw.

Finally, one night found them holed up in an inn, stretched out on the large bed, both of them warm and damp from absolutely delightful baths. A chilly rain fell outside, but in the grate a fire crackled merrily. Jaskier sighed. “Well, I’m definitely feeling contentment. How about you, Geralt?”

Geralt looked at him, long and hard. Jaskier felt himself flush under the witcher’s gaze. Finally, Geralt spoke. “Gratitude.”

Jaskier pushed himself up so he was sitting. “Gratitude?”

Geralt sat as well, looking into Jaskier’s eyes. “To you. For helping me understand. For showing me…my emotions.”

Jaskier’s heart swelled so much he thought it might burst. He flung his arms around Geralt’s neck, hugging him tightly. “Oh, my dear witcher, you are so very, very welcome.”

Geralt’s arms rose to encircle him, pull him close. He bent his head, his nose in Jaskier’s neck, and Jaskier felt the rush of air over his skin as Geralt drew in a deep breath. “Desire,” the witcher murmured, low and deep.

Jaskier pulled back to look into Geralt’s eyes. “What?” he asked, his eyes searching Geralt’s face. In answer, Geralt leaned forward and brushed his lips against Jaskier’s. His hesitation was a question, asking for permission, which Jaskier eagerly granted, his tongue sliding into Geralt’s mouth, his fingers tangling into Geralt’s hair. Geralt matched his enthusiasm, exceeded it, lowering Jaskier onto his back and stretching out on top of him, sliding a thigh in between Jaskier’s legs.

Oh, gods and monsters, if this was the reward that accompanied Geralt’s gratitude, Jaskier was going to start keeping a daily list of favors he could do. Geralt’s lips were pressed firmly against Jaskier’s, his tongue in his mouth, his hands sliding down Jaskier’s torso, his fingers tugging up the hem of Jaskier’s shirt and running along the edge of Jaskier’s waistband. Geralt’s cock dug into Jaskier’s thigh, even as Jaskier’s own dug into Geralt’s hard abdomen.

There was far too much clothing between them. Jaskier pulled at Geralt’s shirt, and Geralt raised his arms so Jaskier could pull it over his head. Jaskier tossed it aside as Geralt dragged Jaskier’s shirt up as well, and then they were kissing again, skin to skin, chest to bare chest. Jaskier’s fingers danced over Geralt’s skin. He had touched Geralt many times, but never like this, never in this way that made Geralt gasp and made his eyes flutter closed. Jaskier ran his hands over shoulders, back, arms, chest, torso, working ever lower, until finally he palmed Geralt’s cock through his clothes. Geralt groaned, pressing into Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier wrapped one leg around Geralt’s waist, pressing his own cock against him.

Jaskier began to tug at the laces of Geralt’s trousers, but it was difficult to do, pressed together as they were. Geralt solved this problem readily by pulling away and kneeling, unlacing both his own trousers and Jaskier’s. He pulled off Jaskier’s trousers and shed his own as well, then lay back against Jaskier.

The feel of Geralt naked above him, his warm skin pressed against Jaskier’s flesh, his cock spreading sticky moisture across Jaskier’s torso very nearly did the bard in. But this was no time for swooning, no, Jaskier wanted all of it, wanted more, wanted to draw Geralt so far into himself they became one. His fingers dug at Geralt’s skin, his tongue pressed far back into his mouth, and Geralt returned his enthusiasm, exceeded it, possibly, pressing him hard into the mattress before gathering Jaskier to him and turning so that Geralt lay beneath him, Jaskier on top.

And now Jaskier had unfettered access to all of Geralt, any part he wished, so he pulled back slightly, moving away from Geralt’s lips to explore the rest of him with eyes and fingers and lips and tongue. He licked at Geralt’s stubble-bristled jaw, nibbled on his earlobe, pinched his nipples, kissed the scars of his chest and arms, massaged his flesh, and finally curled his hand around Geralt’s cock. Geralt moaned, leaned his head back, and pushed his hips up, thrusting into Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier rose with the thrust because Geralt’s enormous body supported his entire weight.

Oh, dearest gods, Jaskier had never fucked a witcher, had never been with someone with so much power, so much raw strength, but he was quickly finding that this was what he wanted, that he wanted to be a tiny human riding a bucking mountain of witcher, oh yes, more than anything. So he straddled one of Geralt’s massive thighs, gripping with his knees as if it were a horse, and pumped Geralt’s cock, slowly at first, faster as Geralt’s thrusts came harder, bucking Jaskier into the air. Jaskier inched forward as high as he could, his hips nearly even with Geralt’s, so that their cocks nearly touched, so that he rode the crest of Geralt’s orgasm with him when Jaskier finally made him come, made him spurt across his own chest and belly, a deep animal growl in his throat. Jaskier had never seen anything more spectacular, more beautiful, and he swore to commit it to song when he had the chance, even if Geralt would be the only one to ever hear it.

But this song was not yet done. Jaskier released Geralt’s cock and bent his head to lap the cum off his skin, licking up every drop, savoring the taste before swallowing. Geralt watched this, eyes glowing, a smile on his lips, as his breathing returned to normal. But although his breathing changed, the hardness of his cock did not. Jaskier noted this with delight—witchers had many kinds of stamina, it seemed.

Geralt’s glowing eyes followed Jaskier as he rose and darted to Geralt’s saddlebags, hunting for a moment before producing a small jar of oil, which he brought back and placed in Geralt’s hand. Geralt grinned devilishly as Jaskier climbed back onto him, onto his chest rather than his legs, seating himself with the witcher’s broad shoulders beneath his legs and his lips below Jaskier’s cock.

“Do you know what to do with that oil?” Jaskier asked as he angled his cock toward Geralt’s mouth. In response, Geralt slid an oiled finger into Jaskier’s ass, and wasn’t that an excellent surprise, becoming more excellent with every second as it worked deep inside him. Jaskier smiled and pushed his cock into Geralt’s mouth, and Geralt’s eager tongue slid over him, curling around him as he sucked.

Where in all worlds had Geralt learned how to perfectly please a man? Jaskier was desperate for the answer even as he feared it, but there was no time to consider it now because Geralt had slid another finger into his ass and was fucking him with both fingers with the same rhythm Jaskier was using to push his cock into Geralt’s mouth. Jaskier gripped the headboard and leaned into Geralt’s touch, letting the tension inside him build, but holding back from pushing it to the breaking point. He looked down and drank in the sight of the witcher, eyes closed, his lips around Jaskier’s cock as it slid in and out of his mouth, his cheeks puffing in and out with each thrust.

Fuck, if he kept this up Jaskier wasn’t going to be good for anything else. He pulled his cock out of Geralt’s mouth and shimmied down his chest a bit. “I am going to ride you like a wild stallion,” he said. Geralt grinned, his eyes deepening to a dark amber, as he drew his fingers out.

Jaskier repositioned himself across Geralt’s hips as Geralt stroked his own cock a few times to spread the oil over it. Jaskier braced himself, his hands on Geralt’s chest, as he slid down onto Geralt’s cock, Geralt himself guiding it in.

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier whispered as he seated himself against Geralt’s hips. “I knew you were big, but you are _big_. Is this a witcher thing? Something about the mutations? It gives you glowing eyes and an absolutely gargantuan cock?”

“Maybe,” Geralt replied, and then began moving his hips. And oh, it was everything Jaskier thought it would be, everything he had hoped. It was a bit more, in fact. He tried to brace himself against Geralt’s chest and arms, but those moved too, so he tried widening the spread of his thighs to brace against the bed, but Geralt was so big he couldn’t touch, so then he tried leaning back to brace against Geralt’s legs, which felt absolutely _spectacular_ but did nothing to keep him in place. He slipped and slid as Geralt bucked beneath him, the oil adding to the problem.

“Geralt,” he gasped, finding words surprisingly hard to form when his ass was stuffed full of Geralt’s cock, “it’s a bit—whoops!—hard to stay on.”

“Thought you wanted a wild ride,” Geralt growled, a smile on his lips.

“Yes, but—” Jaskier caught himself as he slipped sideways, “—it’s not going to be a ride at all if I fall off.”

“You want help, then?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Geralt’s large palms settled on Jaskier’s hips, his fingers curling into his ass. Jaskier gripped Geralt’s wrists for support as the witcher began to slide him bodily up and down on his cock, pulling almost entirely out of him before driving back in. As Geralt fell into a steady rhythm he began to arch his back and buck his hips with vigor, driving Jaskier high into the air, where he held him a moment before letting him slam back down.

The feeling this produced in Jaskier’s body was indescribable. “Fuck, Geralt, this is magnificent. This is spectacular. This is _divine_. Are you a god? Are you certain you’re not a god? I think you might be a god. The god of fucking. Fuck it, I have decided. You are the god of fucking and I am your high priest.” The motion was no longer anything at all like riding a wild stallion. It was like riding a comet, like riding the sun, like witnessing the moment the universe came into being.

Jaskier moved one of his hands from Geralt’s wrist to his own cock as the ache in his belly deepened. It seemed mundane to sully this moment with a mere, common orgasm, so as Jaskier built to the moment of climax, he thought of all the ways Geralt made him feel, and all the feelings he had unlocked for the witcher, all the new emotions Geralt now had names for, and he channeled them all into his voice, so that when he finally came, stroking his cock as it squirted across Geralt’s chest, he sang a high, breathy note, his voice wavering with the depth of feeling it possessed.

Geralt growled, dug his fingers into Jaskier’s thighs, and pulsed inside him, his head thrown back. Finally, Geralt’s hips stilled beneath Jaskier and his hands fell away from the bard’s hips. Jaskier slid off him and wriggled into the crook of him arm.

He gazed up at him, Geralt’s face calm in profile, his eyes closed, a little smile on his lips. “Tell me what you’re feeling now,” Jaskier said.

Geralt opened one golden eye and looked at him sideways. “Satisfied?”

Jaskier nodded. “That sounds about right.”

“What about you?” Geralt’s thumb began to stroke Jaskier’s back lightly, his touch gentle.

Jaskier sighed. “Satiation, of course.” He kissed Geralt’s skin. “Happiness.” How much to tell him? Geralt was so new to emotions. How would he react to the multitudes Jaskier felt in this moment? “Awe. Joy. Pride. Fulfillment.” _Love_. He kept this last to himself. Too soon, too soon.

Geralt pulled him close and kissed him. When he broke the kiss, he looked deep into Jaskier’s eyes. “You sang. When you came.”

Jaskier nodded, his cheek against Geralt’s shoulder. “I did.”

“Why?”

Jaskier smiled. “I took everything I was feeling and made it into a sound.”

Geralt smiled back. “I liked it. Is that how you write your songs?”

“It’s a big part of it.” Jaskier willed his heart not to beat so fast. Geralt could surely hear, could certainly feel. He would know. He would realize that every song, every lyric, every note since the day they had met had been about him, _for_ him. He would find out Jaskier loved him, and that would be too much, too soon. He had only just learned to name his emotions. He wasn’t ready.

Geralt eyed him. “Will you write me a song? About your emotions?”

Tears gathered in Jaskier’s eyes. “Darling, I will write you a thousand.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you want to keep up with my fic I'm on tubmblr: [thetardigrape](https://thetardigrape.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated!


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